


Watch Me, Touch Me, Taste Me, Love Me

by Level4Chaos



Category: Digimon Adventure
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Blood Drinking, Bloodletting, English Dub Names, Hand Jobs, Imprisonment, Jealousy, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Manipulation, Masturbation, POV Third Person, Rejection, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Stockholm Syndrome, Vampire Bites
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2020-09-02 04:00:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20269666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Level4Chaos/pseuds/Level4Chaos
Summary: [INCOMPLETE AND DISCONTINUED]Myotismon has no interest in love, so with some tricks and a series of bizarre requests, Piedmon intends to make his captive interested - much to LadyDevimon's horror.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> **DISCLAIMER:** The characters in this fanfic are not mine. I am merely borrowing them for my own perverted entertainment - and yours, I hope! I assure you they will be returned to their rightful places in perfect condition - and I will have made no money from their adventures!
> 
> **NOTES:** I started this fic way back in 2000~2001. I'm not sure why I stopped writing where I did, as it's pretty obvious by the title how it was going to progress and end. There is a _slight_ chance I might come back to it one day, but if you would like to pick up where I left off, by all means, send me a message - let's be co-authors, two decades apart!

"Stunning..."

It was the night of a full moon, but the shadows of the dense foliage kept him well hidden. He stretched his gloved hands out, to curl around the courtyard balustrade, and rested his chin upon them, like a Gatomon ready to pounce.

"Absolutely stunning..."

The figure remained unaware that he was being observed; slinking after his prey - Piedmon's very own beautiful and highly sought after womon, LadyDevimon. She was on guard duty for the evening, patrolling the grounds alone. She was a capable fighter, and Piedmon had no need to station any other guards on with her. But why hadn't she noticed the mon behind her tonight?

Piedmon wondered whether this creature was friend or foe. And would he rush to LadyDevimon's defence if he turned out to be the latter?

If anyone else was to step within a metre of her, they would have been digi-dust before they could even scream for help. But this masked stranger, so tall and slender... so graceful and alluring... Piedmon would let him do anything to LadyDevimon, just for the chance to watch him.

"I know you're there." LadyDevimon said flatly. "Why can't you go to the front door and be announced like everybody else? I heard that you finally digivolved, but you're still playing the same old tricks."

"I wanted to surprise you."

"It didn't work on me back then, what made you think it would now?"

The rustle of heavy fabric told her that her companion was shrugging.

She turned around, careful not to clip him with her wings.  
"Myotismon..." She smiled, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pressing herself hard against him, in a welcome more suited to lovers, than siblings. "How lucky I am to have such a gorgeous brother! I must admit, when Devimon told me you'd become a Myotismon, I didn't believe him."

The vampire's hands warily sought LadyDevimon's hips, more to push her away than to return her wanton embrace.  
"Let me guess... he came to you to sulk about it?"

She laughed. "Yes, he's still terribly upset that he hasn't been able to progress to the next stage with us... it's a pity really, I always thought he'd be the first."

"He's not our concern any more. I'm here because I heard rumours about your success in the ranks of the Nightmare Soldiers - and I wanted to see it for myself, not talk about our somewhat disappointing brother. Are the Dark Masters treating you well?"

"_Very_ well, I assure you." LadyDevimon replied in a low, husky voice, hinting that she was referring to things of a sexual nature.

Myotismon laughed. Even when she had been a Devimon, she was the promiscuous one of the three, whilst he and his other brother had preferred fighting. "I see..."

"You have no idea." She winked, breaking away from him and running her clawed hands over her figure. Outlined by white moonlight, her curves were accentuated all the more. "I love being a womon! Look at me, Myotismon... I'm to die for! You'd be surprised what a hint of flesh, or a carefully performed wiggle of nice ass can get you around here. My master is a sucker for anything pretty."

There was the echo of applause in the still night, making both Digimon turn instantly, ready to attack. Piedmon was several metres from them, advancing, slowly clapping his hands together in mock appreciation of LadyDevimon's speech. Myotismon looked him up and down.

_What a bizarre creature!_

"LadyDevimon, you make me sound so shallow."

"My Lord, I'm sorry." The shapely womon fell to her knees and bowed her head to the ground.

"No you're not." Piedmon purred, stooping to help her up, and then curling his arm possessively around her waist, but never once looking away from their guest. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Piedmon, and it is a delight to meet you..."

He motioned his hand in circular movements to prompt a name from the handsome stranger.

"Myotismon." The vampire simply answered, unsure what to make of this seemingly comical, yet undoubtedly aristocratic, Digimon before him.

"Ah, LadyDevimon's dear brother." He thrust a gloved hand out, taking Myotismon's hand in it. "...Charmed."  
And he kissed him.

At once, the vampire snatched his hand back, scowling as he rubbed Piedmon's red lipstick from the silver bat on the back of his glove.  
LadyDevimon suppressed a chuckle. _Even as a Devimon, my brother never let anyone touch him._

"Let us adjourn to more comfortable surroundings, where you can tell me more about yourself... _Myotismon_." The name practically rolled off Piedmon's tongue, as if he enjoyed saying it as much as he obviously enjoyed looking at its owner.

LadyDevimon sighed. Piedmon had been so powerful for so long that he had to indulge in other's childhood stories just to keep himself in touch with the common mon. No one knew Piedmon like she did. Many knew him intimately, sexually, but not intellectually... not like her.

He had countless lovers, taking a different one to his bed every week it seemed. But he would grow tired of them fast. He prized the rare combination of beauty and intellect, and none but LadyDevimon had managed to satisfy both his body and mind at once.

He loved to look at her hourglass curves and her pretty face, and never ceased telling her so. But he refused to indulge in anything vaguely sexual with her as a womon - it was known to all of Digiworld that the Dark Master preferred male Digimon in _that_ area, and LadyDevimon would accommodate his wishes in the bedroom by reverting back to her Champion level.

She looked over at Myotismon. He was undoubtedly beautiful for a mon... more beautiful than most womons she'd seen too. He could easily match wits with her, and Piedmon was already fascinated with him.

_Lord Piedmon wouldn't! No, not with my own brother... Damn it, LadyDevimon, he flirts with everyone - Myotismon is no different from the last guest he made tell him everything!_ She mused, walking beside the pair. _Besides, my brother wouldn't allow it, he always said he was saving himself for his one true love. And by the looks of things, Lord Piedmon is far from his one true **anything**._

Piedmon had linked his arm with Myotismon's as they walked back to the palace. The vampire had never felt so uncomfortable.

"Whatever is the matter, _Myotismon_? You feel so stiff and awkward. You have nothing to fear from me, I promise you. As LadyDevimon's brother, you are most welcome here. What's mine is yours, for as long as you want."

"I thank you for your hospitality, but it's nothing, ...Lord... Piedmon."

"My brother does not like to be touched." LadyDevimon leaned over and whispered to Piedmon.

The noblemon stopped mid-step.  
"How dreadfully embarrassing for me!" He immediately unlinked his arm and linked the opposite one with the she-devil. "Forgive me, _Myotismon_, I did not know."

The party continued their walk in silence. LadyDevimon tried to hide her smug look, just as her brother tried to hide his worry. _This_ was not the impression he had set out to make, but then, he really hadn't counted on meeting someone as flamboyant as the Dark Master, Piedmon.

* * * * *

_Three dark brothers, hatched only seconds apart; they ate together and grew together, even digivolved together; one was never without the others. Elecmon had taken an instant dislike to them and had shuffled them off into a distant corner of Primary Village, away from the other babies. He always claimed he couldn't tell what sort of destiny his children would have, but with those three, he sensed their evil purpose right away._

"I suppose we have him to thank..." LadyDevimon said sarcastically, resting her arm in a nonchalant hug on the top of the luxuriously love seat she sat on beside Piedmon, "If that self-righteous little bastard had looked after us like he was _supposed_ to, who knows what revolting creatures we might have become."

The Dark Master stood up and walked away, almost as if he were offended by the womon's show of affection. The she-devil narrowed her crimson eyes in question, but her frown quickly disappeared when she noticed Piedmon had only gone to the opposite side of the room to pour himself some of his favourite red wine.

"Continue, please." He beckoned, his back turned to the siblings, as he poured a second and third goblet.

"After we left Primary Village, Digiworld was practically our oyster." LadyDevimon said casually, not wanting her master to forget that _she_ was very much part of the story as well, "We were three DemiDevimons, hell-bent on having fun. Our older brother didn't want to leave File Island - he liked it. He said that he couldn't imagine a better place for us to terrorise. So we stayed there. The fool! You know, he still hasn't left the island - ever."

Piedmon sat back down, holding out his hand to LadyDevimon, his fingers expertly curled around the stems of two goblets. She took one and thanked him with a nod and a smile.

"Wine, _Myotismon_?" Piedmon leant forward and offered a chalice to him.

LadyDevimon chuckled, the liquid trickled down her chin in a single line, making her look like the vampire her brother was. "Well, tell him."

"Tell me, what?" The Mega frowned at his bodyguard's sudden lack of refinement, and turned back to his guest.

"I do not drink wine." He said quietly.

"Is there something else I can offer you instead? It would be impolite of me to serve you nothing."

Myotismon closed his eyes, almost embarrassed about his inevitable answer. "I drink _blood_."

"Fascinating..." The noblemon tapped his goblet thoughtfully. "LadyDevimon?"

The womon looked up, unconsciously touching her throat. "Yes, Lord Piedmon?"

"Go fetch our guest a tasty morsel from my collection of slaves. Which would you prefer, _Myotismon_ \- A feisty little dish, or a more submissive one?"

"Whichever my sister finds first will do fine. Again, I thank you for your kindness Lord Piedmon."

He had avoided the underlying question well. He was going to be a lot of fun!

LadyDevimon swore under her breath, but loud enough for her brother to hear as stormed past him. The pair watched her leave, and at once, the Mega had moved from his place and was seated very close to his new plaything on the opposite couch.

"Piedmon." He said.

Myotismon frowned in confusion.

"My name... it's simply Piedmon, not _Lord_ Piedmon."

"But LadyDevimon calls you-"

He smiled, "Yes, but I have decided I want you to drop the formalities."  
He raised his hand, positioning it as if to place it on the vampire's knee, but retracted it before it touched.

Myotismon felt strangely disappointed. He'd expected the touch... he'd even prepared himself to cower from it... and now he was unhappy that it hadn't eventuated?! What manner of spell had this dark Digimon put him under? Had his enchanting eyes hypnotised him? Had those alluring blood red lips uttered an incantation he wasn't aware of? Or was it something far more sinister?

Whatever it was, the vampire leapt from his seat and stood some distance away from the amused noblemon.

"Forgive me, _Myotismon_." His smile contradicted his words, as he took another sip of wine, "When I see beautiful things, it is in my nature to touch them. I did not mean to upset you. Please, come be seated by my side again."

He waved his empty hand toward Myotismon's place in an elaborate flourish, but the vampire remained where he was.

"You have my word that I will not touch you again, until your kind permission grants me the honour."

"I do not know you well enough to know if your word means anything."

"It means everything." Piedmon snorted indignantly, but still with that simper on his face. "I am a mon of integrity. Unlike many other things, I would never take a vow in jest."

"I did not mean to insult you."

Myotismon was regretting ever deciding to visit his sister. The Dark Masters' palace unnerved him, made him act in ways he never imagined he was capable of. He was meant to be perfection, and he _had_ been, until setting foot within the cursed boundaries of this place. Everything he said and did here was wrong, or at least, taken the wrong way.

"No offence taken." The forever-smiling Mega said, "I do, however, wish to ask you a favour, since my word has bound me not to touch you."

His victim shifted uncomfortably, "And what would that be?"

There was a high-pitched scream from the corridor, cutting off whatever Piedmon was about to say, and replacing it with an obvious statement.  
"It would appear that your drink is almost ready."

"What is it that you want from me?" Myotismon repeated, choosing a curious tone, rather than the demanding one he wished to take. 

Piedmon was silent, looking at the doorway, as if eagerly awaiting LadyDevimon's return. 

The young Ultimate crossed his arms and sighed in frustration. He was being playing with... and he didn't like it. Why was even here still? His sister was obviously doing quite well for herself, and that was really all he'd shown up to find out. But somehow he'd been lured into Piedmon's very own palace, helplessly watching himself get taunted by the mon's cruel seduction.

After he'd fed, he was going to leave. He didn't want to be part of anymon's game - not unless he was in charge. He knew how beautiful he was... there was nothing like teasing a love-sick fool with promises of things that would never happen.  
He was untouchable - physically and emotionally. No one was worthy enough to place their hand upon him, not in anger, not in friendship, and definitely not in love. And yet, this ostentatious noblemon had the audacity to make fun of him for it - even daring to ask a favour in return for not touching him!

The favour wouldn't matter in an hour, whatever it was. Myotismon calmed himself with the thought. He supposed he should return to File Island and tell his lowly brother some tales about the rest of the Digital World.  
He smirked at thoughts of how he could exaggerate some of his adventures... but how could he exaggerate the Dark Master, Piedmon? Even if he told the truth, Devimon wouldn't believe such a being existed.

LadyDevimon strode into the room, looking curiously at Piedmon sitting in the opposite chair to where he had been when she left, and then over to Myotismon, who stood in the far corner.

"Here." She spat, tossing a sickly Vilemon at him. The creature put up no fight, not even spreading its wings as it hurtled across the room.

Myotismon caught it, holding it up by the scruff of its neck and looking back at his sister. "What have you done to it?"

"Not even a 'thank you'?" She said sweetly, taking her place beside Piedmon, "That's the last time I do anything for _you_."

"Yes LadyDevimon, you could have got him something nicer than _that_." The Mega agreed.

The vampire prodded the comatose Vilemon a few times. "It doesn't matter, I've lost my appetite."

"I apologise, _Myotismon_." Piedmon said in a strangely humble voice, and turned to the womon beside him, snapping angrily, "Haven't you got guard duty tonight, my dear?"

Had it have been to anyone else, Piedmon would have found her little prank hilarious. He _did_ like her brother - a lot.  
"Yes, my lord." She sulked, taking the hint and returning to her post outside.

As she marched up and down the perimeter of the palace grounds, she fumed, wondering what was happening between her amorous master and her frigid brother. She swung her arms around furiously, belting the air with fierce blows.

_Nothing is going to happen! I'm everything Lord Piedmon could possibly want - and I'll show him that!_

* * * * *

"Throw that thing away!" Piedmon ordered, flicking his hand toward the window. "If it stays in here any longer, it will make me ill."

Myotismon did as he was told, also fearing whatever affliction the Vilemon had. He went to the window and pushed it open. A strong gust of wind played with his cloak. He leant over the windowsill, and let the helpless Digimon plummet to the ground. As he did, his cloak flapped back and forth, giving Piedmon momentary glimpses of his firm buttocks, shrouded in dark blue silk.

The Mega's lips curled up in appreciation of the view. His mind wandered to what the beautiful Ultimate would look like naked, bending over in front of him like that.

_A temptation too good to refuse..._

How would his own white fingers look against Myotismon's pale blue skin? What would it be like to make love to him? To be his first? To have him moaning and wriggling beneath him?

_To make him mine..._

The younger of the pair pulled the window closed again and fixed his cloak, before turning back. He noticed Piedmon had taken off the lacy ruff around his neck, placing it beside him and shaking his shoulders, as if relieved by its removal.

"Much better..." He murmured, running a gloved hand over his neck in a lazy massage, peeling up the edge of his balaclava, showing Myotismon a hint of the snow white flesh underneath... the pulsating veins underneath...

"Come, _Myotismon_..." His outstretched hand beckoned the vampire closer, whilst his other hand cupped his forehead, and took his mask away with it as it returned to his side.

Myotismon swallowed. The mon was as handsome as he was articulate.  
"I really should be leaving. I have stayed too long already."

"Nonsense." Said the spider to the fly. "I can't very well send you on your way without a decent meal."

"What are you saying?" The vampire kept his distance.

"Don't play dumb with me." Piedmon put his hands behind his back, safely between him and the chair. "It was wrong of me to think that a slave of mine would be to your liking. You deserve only the best, so here it is. Drink."

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back as far as he could, exposing his jugular. Myotismon did not move. As delicious a feast the mon looked, offering himself to a fate he had no concept of, the vampire had no intention of involving himself further in Piedmon's game.

"Why ever do you hesitate, _Myotismon_?" Piedmon finally asked, keeping his position, "You know that I will not touch you. If you doubt me, you may restrain me yourself."

"I won't be a part of whatever you're playing." He finally spoke. "I will find my own meal after I bid my sister farewell."


	2. Watch Me, Part 1

A glow on the horizon caught LadyDevimon's attention. She stopped her patrol, and leapt into the air, flying to the farthest point of the palace's boundary. She squinted as she looked toward the fiery red emanating between the distant trees.

"The sun?!" She frowned in confusion. The sun had only set a few hours ago, she remembered it well because she and Piedmon had watched it together.

"My favourite time..." She had said, as Devimon, curled up in her master's embrace. "When light meets dark, and darkness wins."  
"Just say the word, and I shall have the sun set whenever you wish."  
"You can do that?"  
He had chuckled, "My sweet Devimon, this world is _mine_... It bows to my every whim. If I want darkness, if I want thunder, if I want _anything_ \- it is my birthright to have it."  
"Is it your birthright to have _me_?"  
"Of course..." He stroked the devil's face, subtly guiding his chin upward, until their lips met. "I think I might claim what is mine and have you right now."

LadyDevimon shivered at the thought of what had followed... how the pair had joked that there could never be spur of the moment passion between them, as they both fumbled at the multitude of buckles on Devimon's outfit. And finally free... she thought of how Piedmon had effortlessly undone his own pants, drawing his Champion lover further into his lap, and taking him under the orange glow of the setting sun.

Devimon never suspected that the night would bring him any threat as he wrapped his long legs around his master's waist. He didn't imagine that he would never share another moment such as this, as he moaned, stretching his wings out as far as he could. How could he know that his irresistible brother would make an innocent visit, and steal his master's heart?

"I hate you!" LadyDevimon screamed at the top of her raspy voice, toward the sun, now quite visible over the trees.

_Hate you..._

_ Hate you..._

_Hate you..._

She stifled a sniffle, taking a deep breath to calm herself. The early sunrise heralded the end of her reign as Piedmon's favourite. She knew what he was doing - he was trapping her brother in a cage of deadly sunlight.

_He promised me the sunset, but gave Myotismon the sunrise instead._

Curiosity got the better of her. She flapped her ragged wings and flew back to the palace. Her heels clattered on the marble floor of the entranceway, echoing down intricate corridors... there was not a soul in sight.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Came a sudden shout. LadyDevimon's ears pricked up - the voice sounded like her brother's, and it was close.

She darted toward the shadows in the corner of the room, instantly welcomed into their dark embrace as one of their own. Only her red eyes were visible, as the new Ultimate stormed past, with Piedmon quickly following him.

"I don't understand." The harlequin said innocently. "Why are you so upset?"  
"The sun! Why has it risen so early?"  
Piedmon shrugged. "This place still surprises even me. It is time for you to sleep, is it not? Come, let me show you to your room."

He naturally held his hand out, but quickly withdrew it.

Myotismon looked at the door, adding up whether he could survive an escape attempt. Probably not. He turned back to Piedmon, who now stood some distance away, waiting for him to follow. The vampire held his shoulders high, against their will to slump in submission. He'd lost this battle, and a tactical surrender was his only option - until nightfall.

"_My_ room?"  
"The guest room." Piedmon corrected. "The curtains are heavy in there, so the sun will not disturb you."  
Myotismon sighed. "Very well. Your hospitality is only exceed by your..."

_Manipulation? Trickery? Deceitfulness?_ His sentence came to a halt as he searched his mind for a word that might compliment the Dark Master.

"Yes," Piedmon interrupted, smiling that eternal grin of his. "Quite."

The pair walked in silence through the winding passageways of the palace. Myotismon followed Piedmon's path, careful to stay a safe distance from him. Even his back was intimidating. Four swords, their sheaths forming an 'x' , were strapped to him. Myotismon did not like weapons, he found them cowardly, but that certainly didn't mean he wasn't wary of anyone carrying them.

His eyes moved down, and he found himself entranced by the sway of the delicate Mega's hips... the way each step would send a slight ripple through the velvet frill at his waist, and down the pair of tails that trailed behind him. The long blue ribbons that sprang from his shoulder blades fluttered out, occasionally licking at Myotismon, as if reminding him he was getting too close... too close physically...

...and far too close emotionally.

* * * * *

Piedmon leaned against the doorframe of their destination, crossing his arms in further assurance that he would not lay a hand on his guest. Myotismon cautiously squeezed past him, backing right up to avoid any contact at all.

He surveyed the room - inwardly impressed by the elegance, but outwardly haughty.  
"Is this it?" He scoffed.  
"Is there something wrong, _Myotismon_?"

The vampire ran his hand over the ornate foot of the four-poster bed, looking at his fingers afterward, as if expecting to see dust. "I suppose it will do for _one_ day."  
He moved to sit upon the heavy tapestry covers and began to unclip his cloak. He looked toward the door, expecting Piedmon to leave, but the Dark Master remained there.

"Yes?" The Ultimate snapped, his hand poised over the second clip.  
Piedmon smiled, "That favour I wanted to ask of you before..."

Myotismon visibly blanched - this madmon had him cornered! His hand clamped tightly over the bat-head clasp of his cloak. Worrying thoughts ran rampant through his skull. Whatever it was, the answer was no. Not a hug, not a kiss, and certainly not a sexual favour. His voice would give his fear away, so he simply nodded for Piedmon to continue.

"I find your beauty and grace overwhelming, and I would like to watch you as I would a fine ballet."  
"Watch me?" Myotismon was relieved, despite the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. But his suspicion was obvious as he asked, "Watch me, _what_?"  
"I don't want a special show... I want you to be yourself, but I want your permission to allow me this pleasure whenever I want, and wherever I want."  
"Why ask? Why not keep leering at me like you already have been?"  
"How dreadfully rude to even suggest that, _Myotismon_! Didn't Elecmon teach you any etiquette at all?"

"If I say no, will you leave me alone?"  
"By my word." Piedmon gave a bitter smile. "And I would be the most unfortunate mon in all of the Digital World."

Myotismon frowned. It was a strange request, but he'd been stared at by numerous Digimon hell-bent on making him their lover before, and he had revelled in the attention.  
Perhaps Piedmon _did_ understand him better than he previously thought? The noblemon was kind enough to make his intention known... and it would only be until nightfall.

"All right." Myotismon agreed, "I will let you watch me."  
"Excellent." Piedmon replied, before reaching over to close the door. His footsteps echoed as he made his way back down the corridor.

The vampire stared in shock. Why had the Dark Master made such a big deal over his request, only to leave once it was agreed to?! Myotismon unclipped the final clasp on his cloak and laid down. Piedmon was weird.

* * * * *

Hand in mid-transit, as if frozen in time. His intention had been to take a sip of wine from the goblet he held, but it never reached his mouth - stopped by engaging thoughts, as he stared blankly out at the expanse of black trees that served as the fence to his palace.  
LadyDevimon cleared her throat behind him.

"Yes? What is it?" Piedmon snapped, caught by surprise.  
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leant in close against him, saying nothing. The Dark Master played with the end of the chain coiled around her right wrist, smiling as it melted away.

"I want you, Lord Piedmon..." She whispered, her voice becoming a strange echo of itself, beginning in a husky feminine tone, and ending in a masculine growl.

Myotismon was asleep; Devimon had to work quickly to win back his master's heart.

"Devimon, now is not the time."  
"Why not?" He asked, curling his wings around him and his beloved, shrouding them in a mottled shadow.

"I'm rather busy at the moment." Piedmon tore Devimon's hands from his shoulders, but the devil immediately put them back.  
"You're thinking about my brother, aren't you?"  
"_That_ is not your concern."

"I thought you and I shared _everything_." Devimon hid his anger behind a seductive voice as he whispered to his master, leaning in to lick his elfin ear.

Piedmon shivered. Devimon had been the only lover he'd had who knew how erogenous his ears were - and he could never resist the devil when he began licking, kissing, and taunting the sensitive flesh with his fangs.  
He groaned in submission, "Oh, all right... but not for long."

As Devimon took his hand and led him through the doors from his private balcony to his bedroom, all Piedmon could think about was going to Myotismon's room and watching him sleep... how delicate his face would look in the midst of sweet slumber; how desirable his body would be, so peaceful and still...

He barely noticed Devimon removing his coat and lacy shirt underneath. He stepped out of his boots and pants like a robot programmed to do just that. Devimon had been too focused on an impassioned seduction to notice the distant look in his master's eyes, taking Piedmon's co-operation as a sign that he was still interested.

"I could have been a Myotismon too, I just chose to become the superior Ultimate of the two options." Devimon whispered, nuzzling his master's neck.  
"Now, now..." Piedmon warned playfully, being brought back from his day-dream by the mention of _his_ sweet name, "Black is the colour that best suits you. I don't like jealousy on you at all."

The Champion smirked as he undid the final buckle on his pants, "What's there to be jealous of? _I'm_ the one that became a LadyDevimon after all."  
"With that bitchy attitude, I'd think that you were still her now." He said it casually, like it was a fact, rather than a direct stab at the devil.

Devimon's jaw dropped. "Lord Piedmon... I..."

His plan for a heated session of carnal pleasures was falling apart. He wanted to defend himself, but at the risk of starting an argument that might well, if only for spite, see Piedmon run to Myotismon's side?

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to say what I did."  
The noblemon's smile returned. "That's much better. Now then, would you like to begin, Devimon?"

_That_ was his cue for the performance of his life. Devimon pressed his naked body against his master's, his breath already hot with anticipation as he put his lips to his white throat.

"How do you want me to take it, my lord?" He whispered between the kisses that trailed from Piedmon's neck, to his jaw, and eventually to his mouth, "I'm in the mood for something rough..."  
Piedmon curled his fist in the devil's silver hair, forcing him into a deeper kiss, as clawed hands roamed the muscular indents on the Dark Master's body.

"Rough?" Piedmon mused, his huge smile all but ending the kiss, as his eyes scoured the room.  
Shackles, once used for torturing prisoners...

Their sweet howls of pain lulling him to sleep many, many years ago...

Oh, how adventurous he'd been when he was young!

But now they hung lifeless, rusty, on the stone wall beside his bed. Why he'd never thought of using them on Devimon before, he could only guess that Devimon had been far more exciting a conquest before...

Before Myotismon...

* * * * *

"Let me go!" Devimon screamed, flailing his chained arms about. "I don't want you when you're thinking about _him_! Get these things off me, now!!"  
Piedmon caught the hysterical devil by one of his horns, pinning his head to the wall with it.  
"Stop that." He warned.  
"Why? So you can call me by _his_ name again?!" Devimon's pale flesh began to glow, and in his stead, stood LadyDevimon once more.

Piedmon held only a few strands of her long silver hair in the place of her Champion's horn. Her wrists were substantially thinner, but she was still unable to free herself from the shackles.

"I would do _anything_ for you!" She tried to keep her tears from making her voice tremble. "And this is how you repay me?"  
"It was an accident... a silly slip of the tongue. I meant nothing by it. Now, where's Devimon hiding? I haven't finished with him yet."

"Devimon?!" LadyDevimon scoffed, "I hardly think you want him anymore, afterall, you moaned for Myotismon."

Piedmon reached out to stroke her tear-stained cheek, but she moved to avoid him.

"Don't touch me!" She barked, adding in an acid tone, "You seem to like Digimon who tell you that."  
"I can't talk to you when you're like this." The Dark Master re-dressed himself and left the womon screaming to be released.

Whether she had given up, or the distance travelled in his castle out-measured the strength of the she-devil's voice; the corridors Piedmon now negotiated were blissfully silent. So silent, the mere creaking of a door opening would surely wake the room's occupant... but Myotismon did not even stir at the trespass.

Piedmon moved closer, until his knees brushed lightly against the side of the mattress. The sleeping vampire's chest rose and fell in soft breaths beneath his crossed hands; Piedmon watched the simple event with no less awe than he did each previous breath.

Regrettably, he slept with his mask on, and the Dark Master stopped himself from reaching to remove it. His fingers were but a millimetre away, before retreating in shame. He let out a low growl of agitation... he wanted to touch the mon so badly.

The small touches he had been able to sneak from the vampire before being told of his distaste for anything physical, were now but pleasant memories - nay, torturous memories of what he wished could go further.

Such beautiful golden hair, much shorter than his own, stayed perfectly set in place upon his pillow. Only his breath stirred the middle strand of his fringe, causing him to frown slightly as a particularly deep breath drew it too close to his nose.

His mysterious beauty made Piedmon smile in appreciation. It was almost like staring at one's favourite painting - a visual subject so very pleasing to a particular eye, that looking away was something loathsome. This fair Digimon... he was now the most prized piece in the aristocratic Mega's enviable art collection - and he was not going to let him go, not for anything.

Thin lips painted purple trembled as their owner's dream became so real, it forced a reaction. Piedmon watched with great curiosity, suddenly remembering his guest had not eaten anything since his arrival. Did he dream of blood by itself, or the challenge of obtaining it? A soft moan stirred the Dark Master from his thoughts, and Myotismon's eyes flickered open.

At once, he bolted upright, grabbing his cloak from beside him and wrapping it tightly around himself.  
"How long have you been there?" He demanded.

"Does it matter?" Piedmon answered sweetly. "Can I offer you something to eat?"

The vampire ignored him, finding more important topics to talk about. "Is it dark yet?"  
"So desperate to leave... I expected better manners from a sibling of LadyDevimon's."  
"I am not yours to judge!" Myotismon shouted indignantly, then repeating his question in much the same manner. "Is it dark yet?"

Piedmon sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to bring any part of his body into contact with the retreating occupant. He had indeed allowed the sky to darken with the coming of night, and to play his sunlight card again so soon would certainly look even more suspicious to the feisty vampire. He'd already pushed LadyDevimon into the role of jealous ex-lover with the prank, he did not want Myotismon to assume a negative role as well.

But trickery was all he knew! He could keep Myotismon in his presence forever with sleight of hand... and yet, something inside him begged him not to.

Something inside him wanted Myotismon to choose to stay by his own will...

The conquest would be far sweeter...

And if he refused...

Then, and only then...

Could he use deception to make Myotismon his...

He felt his cold, viral heart pulse with new life.

"_Myotismon_, please listen to me." He sounded so earnest, the vampire's fierce frown softened somewhat. "I apologise for offending you. Please, it would be an honour if you would stay here with LadyDevimon and myself for a further week. After that you may return home, and if you so wish, you never have to see me again."

"I doubt my sister would want me around for so long." The vampire chose his wording cautiously, careful not to mention how Piedmon unnerved him so.

"I will see to it that she behaves. I promise you, _Myotismon_, it will be the finest week you have lived so far. You will have everything you request, and likewise, nothing shall be done without your express permission."

_Such intriguing eyes he has..._

No.

No!

Myotismon shook his head, breaking from Piedmon's almost... _pleading_ stare.  
"I don't know what you've done to me..." He began in an angry voice, fuelled by his own imaginings, "But I am certainly not staying here to let you continue it!"

"Are you frightened of me?" The Mega asked, moving himself closer to his prey.

Myotismon froze. Shuffling away from him would be an instant admission, despite all the denial in Digiworld. How he wanted to move away, but his pride kept him in his place.

"Why would I be frightened of you?"  
_Yes, that sounded good._

"You're frightened because you're falling in love with me."

The vampire's eyes widened. Pride or no pride, Piedmon was getting creepier by the second. He leapt off the bed, straightening his back so he stood at his full, impressive height - trying to gain some dominance over the situation.  
"How dare you mock me!" He spat, "I would never love someone like _you_!"

"Then prove me wrong." Piedmon taunted, lying down and stretching out so far that a sliver of his belly's white skin was exposed between his jacket's frilly hem and his pants' waistband. "Stay with me for a week. _One_ week... that's all I ask."

Myotismon gritted his teeth, wanting to slap himself for allowing his opponent to find such an opening in his defence.  
"Fine! You have a week to win my heart." He snapped, adding sarcastically, "Good luck."

"It's not a matter of winning, _Myotismon_. That has already been done. It's simply a matter of getting you to realise it."

The vampire suppressed the urge to yell something obscene back at him, and pretended to ignore the remark. "You said that I shall want for nothing during my stay... Where is this meal you offered?"

Piedmon stared at him for a moment, quite taken aback by being _ordered_ about. He hadn't been given an order since he'd been an Ultimate so many years ago!

"Would you like LadyDevimon to fetch you another Vilemon, or would you rather hunt your own in the palace gardens?" He finally answered, clearing himself of any responsibility associated with Myotismon's beck and call.

_Ever the aristocrat._ The very corner of the vampire's violet lips curled up in the tiniest of smiles. "I'll catch my own, thank you."  
"Lovely. Allow me to escort you to the gardens."

"You try so very hard," Myotismon sighed, running his hand through his hair and casting a seductive look at Piedmon that would have had any lower Digimon on their knees begging for his love. "And all for naught. You cannot win me simply with lavish gifts and attention."

"Ah," Piedmon smiled, his eyes skimming up and down his prey's body. "So you _can_ be won?"  
"Everyone has their price... but I'm afraid mine is far beyond your limit."

"You underestimate me. Come, the garden awaits." Piedmon opened the door, and flourished his hand for no other reason, it seemed, but to show his guest the obvious way out.


	3. Watch Me, Part 2

They walked side by side, Myotismon was all but pressed against the wall beside him to avoid contact with his companion. Occasionally Piedmon would announce that it was not far, but the journey through multitudes of winding corridors said otherwise.

_It will be daylight before we even get there!_ Thought Myotismon grimly to himself.

"You will learn your way around before the week is over." The harlequin promised, opening an enormous pair of double doors. Behind them was darkness... a forest of weeping trees; their foliage so dense, there was but a few bold streams of moonlight allowed to penetrate the canopy - the only clue that they were indeed outside now.

"My private courtyard and garden." He announced. "There is another door further to the right. It leads to my chambers, if you ever need to visit me, _Myotismon_."  
"I doubt _that_ shall ever happen." The vampire replied curtly.

Piedmon smirked, stepping into the darkness and heading for the clearing that overlooked the palace grounds, to the very place he had first caught sight of his victim.

Someone had been so kind as to set a glass of wine upon the balustrade beside the lone chair there. LadyDevimon, he assumed, as a peace offering.

Taking the chalice up as he took his seat, he glanced casually over his shoulder into the window of his distant bedroom. Sure enough, the shackles were empty. A look to his other side, toward the rest of the yard, and there she was - patrolling the area as usual.

"LadyDevimon!" He shouted, caught up in the folly of his endless escapades, not realising he had scared away a great deal of Myotismon's potential dinner guests.

She looked up at him and gave a half-hearted wave.

"However did you escape?"  
"Your shackles cannot hold a DemiDevimon's wings, my lord."  
Piedmon laughed. "I will be sure to have them improved for next time."  
"Yes," She grumbled under her breath, returning to her duty. "I'm sure you will."

There was a sudden commotion not far away, leaves rustled and there was a small cry. Piedmon leapt to his feet. He could see Myotismon kneeling; one hand was clamped firmly around his victim's belly, the other outstretched for balance, pinning his prey beneath him.

Piedmon licked his lips at the sight, partaking in a fantasy where he was Myotismon's victim in the unworthy Vilemon's stead. How he would enjoy having that body hold him down as those beautiful lips caressed his neck, and finally, the bite...

The vampire, so proud in the presence of his peers, was equally as animalistic with his subordinates. The remarkable backflip in his behaviour aroused Piedmon's obsessive interest in him even more.

He was so... so primeval... biting the defenceless Vilemon in several places with no mercy. He did not chew on the creature's flesh to devour it, as Piedmon had once seen a Leomon do (that sort of ferocity was for wild Digimon), he used only his fangs to pierce underlying veins, keeping the struggling victim alive for as long as possible before draining it completely.

It was a long, painful death for the Vilemon, and Piedmon seemed to revel in it as much as Myotismon did. At last, with every drop of blood transfused in the most lascivious manner, the Ultimate rose to his feet, brushing the dirt from his knees and then reaching for a blood-stained handkerchief from the front of his tunic to wipe his face.

"Liking what you're seeing so far?" He asked, turning on one toe and trampling the dying Vilemon as he made his way further into the garden to find something that would serve as dessert. The creature exploded into Digi-dust behind him.  
"I'll make the next one extra special."

_His attitude is so ruthless...  
_

_And yet, his body is so innocent._

"Don't trouble yourself, _Myotismon_. I have other, more pressing engagements to take care of right now." Piedmon lied, hoping to disappoint his haughty prey, "Do enjoy yourself in my garden, I'll have LadyDevimon stop by to show you the way out in a little while."  
"Must she?" The vampire reappeared from the foliage.  
"Surely you don't expect me to send one of the other Dark Masters? They have far too much to do already. And besides," He added, turning for the exit, "You two really should spend some quality time together."

He _was_ disappointed, Piedmon noted with subdued excitement. His plan was working perfectly!

* * * * *

"Lord Piedmon tells me that you are staying for another week, my dear brother." The she-devil tried to say it casually, but her voice was thickly laced with jealousy.

They walked the lengthy corridors together. Myotismon felt comfortable beside his sister, so much that his hand would brush lightly against hers - if only for a moment, it was a touch nonetheless.

"You're new..." LadyDevimon sneered, not looking at her brother. "Lord Piedmon thinks you're fun. But the magic _will_ wear off... and he'll come back to me, like he always does."  
"I'm not interested in him." He defended himself calmly.  
"I never said you were."

Myotismon stopped walking and folded his arms across his stomach. "You didn't have to. You're like an open book, Devi."

Her Championhood nickname made her turn around to face him, but she remained several steps away. "I'm warning you, Myotismon - You stay away from him."  
"If only!" He snorted in retaliation, "Why don't you tell _him_ to stay away from _me_?"

"No... no..." LadyDevimon faltered, as if searching for the right words, "No, you see, Lord Piedmon is mine. I have worked too long and too hard to make it so, and your pretty face and alluring innocence is not going to take that away from me! At the moment, he _thinks_ he wants you, but you and I both know _that_ is _not_ going to happen."

Myotismon chuckled at her insecurity. "Why does it bother you so much? I have no intention of stealing him from you."  
"You will." She said gloomily. "Lord Piedmon _always_ gets what he wants."  
"How lovely for him. It's about time he learned that he can't get his way all the time."

_Oh, but I can...  
_

_And I will._

Myotismon looked around, suddenly feeling as though he and LadyDevimon were not alone.  
"Let's move on." He suggested, frowning as he cast a final glance at the seemingly empty corridor behind him.

They continued in an awkward silence until reaching Myotismon's room. The vampire thanked his sister with a nod and opened the door - to a room quite unlike the one he had left an hour ago.

"Oh, he's planning to keep you here longer than a week, brother dearest." LadyDevimon muttered sourly, walking around the room.

Once decorated in the absurdly florid style of the rest of the palace, it had been transformed into a dark lair, serving one purpose alone - to ensure a vampire the most comfortable sleep.

The side tables, chairs, and even the bed had been removed, replaced with a single strip of vermilion carpet, bordered with heavy, wrought iron candelabras, leading from the doorway to an open coffin.

Myotismon's first instinct was to lay in the new sarcophagus... the silk pillows within looked like they would feel like one was sleeping amongst the clouds!

_Why am I so impressed by this gesture? Am I really that shallow?!_

But he remained beside the coffin, his concern for his sister's feelings outweighing the desire to test it out. "Why do you allow yourself to be treated like this?"  
"I love him, Myotismon." The beautiful devil womon said quite unexpectedly.  
"But does _he_ love _you_ in return? It seems to me that you're nothing but his personal whore. You deserve-"

His sentence was cut off as LadyDevimon rushed toward him, toppling one of the candelabras over in her haste to slap him viciously across the face.  
"How dare you!" She screeched, her glassy red eyes pained with the realisation that what he said might well be true.

"I was out of line." Myotismon put his hand to his swollen cheek, gasping at how much the wound hurt to touch. "I just want to see you happy, and you're obviously not with-"  
"Don't say it." She warned him. "I _was_ happy until you showed up!"  
"If that is all it would take, then I shall leave tonight."

"You will do no such thing."  
The pair turned around in unison, their eyes greeted by the sight of Piedmon standing in the doorway; arms folded and looking strangely infuriated.

"LadyDevimon - out." He ordered, not taking his eyes off Myotismon, as he made his way toward the fallen candelabra and blindly stood it back up. The candles, snuffed in the fall, flared back to life with an angry fire - an extension of Piedmon's present emotions.

"Lord Piedmon, I can explain-"  
"Good." He spat, still not looking at her. "Wait for me on the terrace."  
She gave a small curtsey of respect and left without any further argument.

"_Myotismon_, are you all right?" His hands were poised as if ready to hold the mon's face and comfort him, but he did not step forward to deliver the touch.  
The vampire grimaced at the ache in his jaw that had lain dormant until he tried to smile. "I'm fine. She didn't use her full strength."

"Is there anything you need for the pain?"  
"No." He answered firmly, "I'm _fine_."  
"Take your hand away."

Myotismon frowned.

"I want to see how badly she wounded you."  
The Ultimate rolled his eyes and sighed, uncovering his bruise, and a trickle of blood from under his mask.

"Take your mask off." Piedmon said it like it meant nothing to him, but inside he was like a giddy Rookie at the prospect - although, his company soon put a stop to it.  
"I'd rather not. The cut is not deep, it's practically healed already."

"Very well." He pretended it didn't matter, changing the subject back to LadyDevimon's actions. "_Myotismon_, I apologise. She gets jealous... but I did not think she would ever do something like this."  
"She has every right to be jealous."  
"How so?" The Mega asked, tilting his head to the side, letting his hair spill across his uncovered face in wispy strands. His company bit his lip to prevent himself from smiling - Piedmon was almost _attractive_ when he played innocent.

"Oh, no." Myotismon shook his head. "I'm not going to play _this_ game. You want me to say that I think you're cheating on my sister."  
Piedmon grinned. "Is that right?"  
"Well, isn't it?"  
"It was an honest question. I have no idea why LadyDevimon is jealous."

The vampire was unconvinced.

"I must not keep her waiting any longer. I will make sure she understands her role in my household. I bid you farewell for now, my love." Piedmon turned on his heel and strode out of the room, blissfully ignorant of Myotismon's outraged expression.

_My **love**?!_

* * * * *

After his evening meal, Myotismon would usually retire to his crypt to read until sunrise. Now stranded in a practically empty room inside a labyrinth which he really did not want to negotiate alone, the vampiric Digimon realised the situation could render him quite bored in a number of minutes. The lure of the coffin's soft pillows would entertain him for a while, but what after that?

He stepped into the coffin, smiling at how far his feet sank into the heavenly silk. His elfin ears twitched at a soft sound outside.

"Your brother said something rather troubling to me."  
"So?" LadyDevimon spat the word like it was poison in her mouth. She wanted to make it clear that she did not regret slapping Myotismon, and she would be damned if Piedmon could force an apology out of her.

"He said..." The harlequin made circular gestures with his hands, as if trying to pull the words he needed from the air around him. "Something like, I was _'cheating on you'_. What have you been telling him?"

Myotismon quickly learned that the single window in his room overlooked the terrace upon which LadyDevimon had been instructed to meet with Piedmon. The vampire's curiosity for his sister's well-being, as well as (he hated to admit) her master's stance on their relationship, drew him to watch the conversation between them.

The moon shone down like a spotlight on the two performers; LadyDevimon stood with her arms crossed and her back to Piedmon, still unmasked, with his long brassy hair glistening as it played about his shoulders.

The Mega reached his hand out to her, but she moved away, turning to growl something to him, too soft for Myotismon to hear. Piedmon gave an exaggerated shrug, throwing his head back - and catching sight of Myotismon's silhouette in the window above.

He winked and gave a playful smile, filling the Ultimate with horror for having been caught. It was useless hiding now, and if it wasn't for Piedmon's less than subtle glances in his direction, he would have remained eavesdropping.

"This is indeed distressing news..." The noblemon paced up and down the length of the terrace, his chin in his hand, as if in deep thought. Myotismon had vanished from the window, which meant he was forced to concentrate on LadyDevimon's confession of love.

"Distressing?!" The womon shouted in disbelief.  
"I didn't know you felt that way." He said softly. "I thought we had agreed to keep our relationship strictly physical."  
"Hasn't it grown beyond that, my lord?"

Piedmon glided over to her, and she did not fight him when he put his hands on her shoulders. "It can't."  
She bowed her head to lean against his chest. "Why not?"  
"Have you ever wondered why I have never allowed any other mon near you?" He ran his hand through her hair, like a mother comforting a child.

"I thought it was because you..." She trailed off sadly. "...loved me..."  
"You were hired as a soldier. I need you to be focused at all times... not have your mind clouded with _love_."

She broke away from him with a violent shove.  
"LadyDevimon-"  
"I have duties to attend to." She snarled coldly, taking to the sky and heading for her position in the palace grounds.  
"As do I..." Piedmon smiled, returning inside.

* * * * *

"Retiring to bed a bit early, aren't we? I'm so happy that you like it." Candlelight invaded Myotismon's sarcophagus as the lid was lifted from it.

The vampire inside jumped up, embarrassed he had been caught purring as he snuggled into the soft silk.  
"What do you want?!"

With a goblet of wine in one hand, and his other resting on the coffin's lid, Piedmon gave his trademark smirk of appreciation.  
"I've only ever seen a Gatomon do that before - not in a coffin, of course. I didn't think it would be possible, but you're getting lovelier every time I lay my lucky eyes on you."

"Leave me alone!" Myotismon ordered angrily, regretting all the times he had enjoyed being ogled in the past. It _was_ possible to have too much of a good thing.

Piedmon nodded, moving away. Upon reaching the door, he turned, and leaned against the wall.  
Myotismon cast him a fierce look. "What are you doing?"

"Watching you... what else?" He took a casual sip of his wine.  
"Fine." The vampire groaned in frustration, grabbing the lid of his coffin and closing it as he lay back down.  
"You can't hide in there all the time." Piedmon taunted playfully.  
"Watch me." Came the muffled reply.  
"I'm trying to, but you're not co-operating."

Was that a soft laugh he heard?

The lid opened, and Myotismon rose to his feet. Stepping out, he gave a half-hearted bow. "All right. Here I am... stare all you want."

His voice was dripping with sarcasm, something Piedmon was not impressed by. The proud Digimon lord shifted his weight back onto his feet, making Myotismon cautious. And much to the Ultimate's surprise, he left the room without a word of explanation.

Myotismon's strange disappointment was proof enough he hadn't had too much of that good thing yet. Despite finding himself constantly annoyed by the mon, he actually _liked_ Piedmon's attention! And... after such a short time, was he even beginning to crave it?

_No! That's ridiculous! He's playing with me again..._

__

_But why do I want him to come back so badly?_

Piedmon strode toward his private chamber, licking his lips at how perfectly his plan was proceeding. As powerful as he was, he still required a small amount of sleep... and for the events he had planned for the day ahead, he would need all the sleep he could get.

Stripping off his lacy, ruffled clothes, he stepped into his claw-foot bath - warm rose water had already been drawn by whoever was in charge of those things (he didn't care to learn who it was, only that they did it correctly and on time).

He sighed, slumping deeper and deeper into the relaxing liquid, his mind drifting to thoughts he had forbidden himself to have in the presence of his very desirable guest.

Yes, he could imagine Myotismon with him right now, sharing his bath... the subtle fragrance of the rose petals drifting lazily upon the surface of the water, infusing the steamy air.

He reached for the sponge, dipping it in the water and running it over a soft chest - his own in reality, but the beautiful Ultimate's in his fantasy.

"_Myotismon_..." He whispered, picturing the mon lying against him as he washed him, taking the sponge and placing it on his heartbeat, and then squeezing, expelling ticklish rivulets down his belly.

The vampire would sigh and lay his head back to rest on Piedmon's shoulder. The smitten Mega could almost hear him say, "That feels so nice..."  
Reaching up, Piedmon imagined stroking his delicate face, unmasked and far more beautiful than anything he had ever seen before. His fingers ran a feather-light touch over his strong jaw, guiding the vampire up and back to receive a deep kiss.

Myotismon shifted against him, straightening his back, and taunting Piedmon's growing arousal with his buttocks. The Dark Master's hand rubbed his erection to create a similar sensation to the one he so wanted to be real. He moaned, softly in his fantasy, but loud enough in reality to wake him.

Rose water... gilded candelabras...

A romantic bath... _for **one**._

His moan turned to a disappointed sigh as he relinquished his hold on his arousal. What a waste of atmosphere!

He swirled his finger around one of the petals floating above his stomach, forcing it to spin. He wanted Myotismon so much... more than he'd ever desired _anything_ before. The mere thought of the Ultimate brought with it intoxicating sequences of the most carnal variety. He oozed sex appeal, and he knew it too... taking pleasure in denying his hapless victims the opportunity to experience what his body had the capacity to offer.

_...He cannot deny me forever._  
The harlequin smiled, trying to scoop his spinning petal into his cupped hands. It darted away with the sudden change in the water's movement, slipping from his grasp.  
_I will be gentle in my approach._  
Slowly, he raised his hand from underneath his prey, closing his fingers around it, and securing it tightly.  
_He cannot deny me forever..._

The tiny pursuit was over, and he set his captive free; his thoughts returning to Myotismon lying between his legs, as the petal re-joined its siblings - it didn't know what had just happened, it didn't care what had just happened... it, unlike its pursuer, had no concept of the thrill of a chase.

The kiss... yes, that was where Piedmon had left off. How sweet Myotismon's lips would taste. The Dark Master licked his own for inspiration, imagining his future lover's to be far softer.

Breaking the kiss, not from wanting to, but for the need to breathe, the pair would speak words Piedmon's mind had no intention of scripting. Myotismon would twist at his waist, smiling as if his dark lord had suggested they partake of the most lewd of acts, and dash to the opposite end of the tub, splashing water everywhere.

"Come and get me then..." Was Myotismon capable of looking _that_ delectable in reality? Piedmon had no doubt he was, and would set about getting that expression out of him as soon as possible. His fantasy lingered on that scenario, letting him enjoy the view for a few moments longer. And then he dived toward the frisky vampire, who allowed himself to be caught. Their slippery bodies slid against each other as what they shared became more of a desperate tangle of limbs, than an embrace.

Their lips met once again, too rapt in their passion to care that they had submerged. Air, or the lack of it, was the one hindrance to their otherwise endless need to stay locked together.

They rose from the water, gasping for a mere second before resuming their kiss - tongues coiling around each other in a frenzy, as if trying to make up for that precious second they had lost not being entwined.

Clumps of Piedmon's long hair stuck to Myotismon as the drenched pair's initial thrashing about slowed to become passionate grinding against each other.

"Make love to me..." The vampire requested, his lips barely leaving his lover's to speak.  
Piedmon answered by deepening the kiss; one hand curled around the nape of Myotismon's neck, keeping his face above the water level; while the other sought his knee, pulling it as far away from its twin as he dared.

Piedmon lay back in his lonely bathtub, imagining how tight the young mon would be, and changing his grip to aid his wild fancy.  
"Mmm..."  
He would kiss Myotismon slowly, deeply, as he entered him, taking the mon's cry as his cue to continue both attacks.

The tide moved back and forth with Piedmon's thrusts at first, but as the intensity of the act grew, so too did the waves' independence - slapping against their creator in their own rhythm, as he kept his. Myotismon wrapped his legs around his lover's waist, moaning as both physical and libidinous waves washed over him again and again.

Piedmon gave a guttural groan, spilling himself into the bath water... dearly wishing that Myotismon had been there to accept his precious gift. He looked about the room sadly. Yes, there were puddles across the floor, but they had not been put there in the manner he so wanted.

Climbing out of his bath in a daze, he was tempted to call Devimon to his chamber and have him relieve his master's aching heart with some mindless physical pleasures... but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted Myotismon, and Myotismon alone! Devimon, or indeed anyone else, was no longer satisfactory.

And for the first time in as long as he could remember, he slept alone; taking only his thoughts of his beautiful guest to his bed that night...


	4. Touch Me, Part 1

LadyDevimon was suspiciously absent from the Dark Masters' Dining Hall the following morning. Piedmon had been in a pleasant mood when he had first arrived, but now he angrily tapped his spoon against his plate stacked high with gourmet pastries, staring at the place the womon should have taken, amusing him with reports of her previous night's kills before retiring to her room for some much deserved rest.

"What's wrong, Lord Piedmon?" Machinedramon looked as concerned as his monstrous metal face would allow him to. "You haven't eaten anything."  
"That's how he keeps his lovely figure." Puppetmon helpfully offered, madly shoving more of the sticky, sweet food into his already crammed mouth.

"Where is LadyDevimon?" Their leader asked, not addressing any of them in particular.  
All murmuring ceased; the utensil-bearing hands, tail, and claws of his three companions all paused like a still frame.

MetalSeadramon finally spoke, "I saw her crying by the south perimeter last night."  
"Womons..." Puppetmon rolled his eyes and laughed.

"Crying?! Whatever does she need to cry about?" Piedmon rose from his place, thumping his hands down either side of his plate. "This is madness! I need last night's report, and she's off somewhere having some sort of emotional malfunction. Puppetmon, tell me again why I gave her this part in our production?"  
"Because she's hot, my lord?"

The other two Dark Masters chuckled like school children at the remark. Piedmon, however, did not even acknowledge it.  
"My entire day - in chaos before it even begins! Have her bring the report to me when she makes her unfashionably late entrance."

Straightening his doublet, and pinching the ruffles around his neck, he angrily (but still ever so proudly) strode out of the room, almost knocking over the Digimon who had arrived to clear the empty glasses and plates from the table.  
"My time is too precious to spend hunting her down."

"Do you think he's going to go see his new _guest_?" Machinedramon asked as soon as their master was out of listening range, the word 'guest' prompting a sneer.  
"Undoubtedly." MetalSeadramon nodded, "Have either of you seen this Myotismon guy yet?"

Both shook their heads, but the mischievous look on Puppetmon's face told all that it would only be a matter of time before he would arrange to _accidentally_ meet the unsuspecting mon.

"And I thought I was the only womon around here." LadyDevimon's husky voice taunted as she emerged from the shadows. "Really! You're nothing but a bunch of old gossips."  
"Lord Piedmon's looking for you." The metal sea serpent informed her, disregarding her emasculating comment.

Puppetmon giggled, leaning over to their master's place and grabbing a particularly creamy pastry from his plate.  
"You're in really big trouble!" He sang, devouring the ill-gotten indulgence.

The womon collapsed onto her chair, crossing her arms on the table and lying her head on them.  
"Why would he be looking for me? He couldn't care less what happens."

"Oh boy," Puppetmon was so excited, he could barely keep the contents of his mouth from spilling down his little wooden face. "This is gold!"

"What's so different about this time?" She muttered, more to herself than the three Dark Masters. "I mean, it's not like he hasn't done this before..."

"Remember the time he went after that Piddomon? I am _so_ glad _that_ phase passed quickly." MetalSeadramon butted in, hoping to cheer the womon up. "If he'd put any more effort into getting that mon's attention, he would have popped something!"

Machinedramon caught onto his comrade's plan. "But he came back to you eventually, right?"

"Yes." There was a definite smile in LadyDevimon's voice. She'd told herself the same thing dozens of times, but to hear it from someone else was more convincing.

"_Eventually_?!" Puppetmon spat out his mouthful of half-chewed choux from laughing so much, "What are you talking about? He kept Piddomon for two days after winning him."

"He'll fuck Myotismon once - maybe twice, if he's as lovely as everyone's been saying, and then he's all yours again, LadyDevimon." MetalSeadramon reinforced the puppet Digimon's point, who immediately began to giggle.  
"You said a naughty word!"

The womon was growing more and more concerned for her brother with each lewd comment made about his limited future with Piedmon. She nodded sadly; this should have been easy, but with her brother involved, it created so many conflicting emotions.

Would she stand back and let him be used as Piedmon's (how had Myotismon so eloquently put it?) _personal whore_? And if they did succeed in staying as a couple, would she give up her happiness for him? Or, would she prefer to see him suffer for her own? 

"This isn't just about me." She finally said. Unable to sum up all of her feelings in one sentence, she decided a response on her foremost fear was in order. "I don't want Lord Piedmon to treat Myotismon like that. He's... inexperienced. He could really get hurt."

He had been saving himself for his one true love...

But Piedmon always got what he wanted...

It would crush Myotismon if he gave away his virginity to sate the Dark Master's fickle whim for just a moment.

* * * * *

"Lord Piedmon?" LadyDevimon rapped her knuckles lightly on his chamber door, steeling herself for the performance of her life. A thick lump of sorrow rose in her throat, bringing those forsaken tears with it. She bit her lip to curb them - she would never let her master know how much he had hurt her.

She called out to him again. Curiously, there was no answer.  
"I have last night's report." She offered, almost like a bribe for him to make an appearance.

"And _where_, pray, have _you_ been, my dear?"  
The dark angel spun around, finding herself face to face with whom she had been seeking.

"One might ask the same of you." She replied bravely, lacing her voice with seductive tones to hide her sadness.  
Piedmon smirked. No one but LadyDevimon could get away with talking to him in such a manner... _that_, and he did so want to brag about where he had been.

"I was spending some time with your charming brother." He said casually, opening the door to his room and guiding LadyDevimon in with a touch to her waist.  
"My brother should have been sleeping at this hour."  
"He was. Don't concern yourself, I was sure not to wake him."  
"He mustn't have been very good company then."  
"On the contrary, he was _perfect_."  
The womon gave a forced smile. "I have last night's report."

"Excellent." Piedmon took his mask off and sat at his dressing table, offering LadyDevimon a chair by the window next to him. Strangely, his good humour had returned, despite how angry he had been not an hour ago.  
"Tell me everything."

"The night could not have been quieter. There was only one disturbance."  
"And what of this disturbance?" His words were hard to understand, struggling out of his taut lips as he re-touched his crimson lipstick.

"I took care of them, my lord. A pair of Gazimon... probably out on a dare." She snickered at the memory of their demise. Killing them had taken her mind off her previous ordeal. "They will not trouble you again."  
"Gazimon?! I do wish that mon would keep his henchmon in line! Why, you would never see any of _mine_ act so foolishly." Piedmon began to draw heavy kohl around his eyes.

"Of course not, Lord Piedmon." LadyDevimon agreed, her gaze locking to her handsome master. His flawless alabaster complexion, his shimmering golden hair... he looked almost heavenly in the bright morning light, grinning at his reflection as he achieved perfection with his eyeliner.

There was that cursed lump in her throat again...

Swallowing hard, she had to say something lest she ruin her act with the same tears she had cried the night before.  
"I suppose we'll be having another visit from Etemon then?"  
"The idiot..." Piedmon laughed at the thought of a confrontation with the monkey. "Yes, I suppose we shall."

He rose, offering his hand to LadyDevimon, which she hesitantly took and stood with him. "Thank you, my dear... an utter delight as always. That will be all."  
And he planted a soft kiss on her cheek as he bade her farewell.

* * * * *

LadyDevimon closed the door to her pitch black room, not far from Piedmon's, and sighed. The kiss had been a fond one, but unlike anything he had ever treated her to before. Her master was a mon of extremes... and 'fond' was not an extreme.

"I could be, nay, I _am_ so much more than your bodyguard, Lord Piedmon..."

Seeing him look so beautiful and act so chivalrous had only strengthened her resolve - overpowering any sympathy she had, and making Myotismon her enemy again.  
"I'll show you once and for all that you never need to look anywhere but here for all you want..."

Uncurling the length of chain from around her body, she dropped it on the floor as she leapt into flight; flipping in the air, her feet hooked onto a bar suspended from the ceiling. Comfortably hanging upside down, she curled her wings around herself and she closed her teary red eyes - retreating into a world where Myotismon was living out his days on File Island with their boring brother as his only company, whilst she and Piedmon were the most perfect couple the Digiworld had ever seen.

* * * * *

The land was shrouded in a fiery orange as the setting sun fought with the horizon. Myotismon opened his eyes, jumping in fright as he was welcomed with the sight of Piedmon staring down at him. He was sitting down with his arms crossed and resting against the edge of the coffin, so the vampire assumed he had been there for some time.

"I suppose I don't need to ask what you're doing here." He said sourly, sitting up and staring back, rather than cowering at the closeness he'd come to expect from his perpetrator.  
Piedmon gave a soft smile. "As captivating as you are, I have grown tired of simply looking at you."  
Myotismon was quick to cover up his hurt look. _Tired of **me**?!_  
The Dark Master rose to his knees. "Let me touch you."

_Let me touch you..._

_Let me touch you..._

The statement was so bold, so unexpected. The young Ultimate's eyes immediately filled with terror; any comfort he had felt in Piedmon's presence quickly vanished.

"No!" He didn't care how scared his voice sounded, or how scared he looked as he leapt up and retreated into the far corner of the room. Had it have been anyone else, his reaction would have been one of arrogance or anger, but the aristocratic clown had warped his emotions in ways he could not explain.

"Are you afraid I will hurt you?" Piedmon stood up, and began to slowly make his way over to his prey. "I would rather sever my hands from my wrists than use them to cause you pain."

Myotismon shook his head, wrapping his cloak around himself tightly. The soft chatter of bats began to echo about the room. Piedmon regarded him cautiously, but still advanced; the frightened mon felt threatened, and was preparing to attack.

"If you do not think I would hurt you... perhaps you are afraid that you will like it?"  
"That's ridiculous!" Myotismon shouted, "I do not want you to touch me because you do not deserve to!"  
"Then, you are an impossible prize. For there is not a mon in Digiworld who _does_ deserve to touch you, if I cannot."  
"I will find him. " He promised, adding icily, "...or _her_."  
"It would appear that I have been chasing the wrong mon. I have decided I want this one you speak of... the one who is more worthy than I."

Myotismon scowled. Piedmon was mocking his bluff! His bats were gathered, waiting for his signal. He entertained the thought of unleashing them on the tawdry buffoon more than once in the few passing seconds of silence, but decided against it. He had not been an Ultimate long enough to comprehend how powerful he was - especially against a Mega.

"Will your friends be staying for dinner?" The dark lord suddenly asked, as if sensing his company's very thoughts. "There's an awful lot of them... how many shall I tell the help to have the table set for?"

Myotismon sighed in submission. "None."  
He dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Hundreds of black bats raced toward the open window, squeaking as they spread out across the twilight sky.

"And now, my dear... allow me to escort you to the Dining Hall." Piedmon held his arm out. This time he did not withdraw it, as he had on other occasions... this time, he expected Myotismon to complete the act.

The Ultimate crossed his arms defiantly, not moving from his corner.  
"I only wish to link arms with you, _Myotismon_. You've done it before, and it wasn't so bad, was it?"  
"I don't want you touching me!" He snarled in return.

He had agreed to Piedmon's seemingly harmless request to be watched, and that had been a less than pleasant experience, if not bordering on creepy. Allowing the harlequin the honour of touching him was a disaster waiting to happen.

"I won't abuse the privilege, you have my word."  
A purple blush stained Myotismon's pale blue cheeks. "Abuse?"  
"I won't touch you anywhere you do not want me to... you only have to tell me to stop, and I shall, without question."

_No! Why am I weakening? How does he do this to me?!_

"Bastard." The vampire muttered, stepping forward and hesitantly linking his arm with Piedmon's.  
The noblemon's smile was truly one of unadulterated happiness. He patted Myotismon's hand affectionately. "You won't regret this."  
Myotismon, however, believed otherwise.

_He just patted me?! What does he think I am - his lapdog?!_


	5. Touch Me, Part 2

It was the longest ten minutes of his life as he walked arm in arm with his captor through meandering passageways to the premise of a Dining Hall he was beginning to think existed only as an excuse for Piedmon to keep touching him.

The whining phrase 'Are we there yet?' came to mind several times. He was sure they'd passed by the same suit of armour... the same life-size portrait of all four Dark Masters... the same enormous vase filled with ghastly red and yellow flowers, thrice already.

"I have asked that the others dine later, so that we may be alone, _Myotismon_." Piedmon broke the silence upon nearing a set of large double doors, not unlike the ones that lead to the palace garden - but these were opened by Rookie minions inside the room at the sound of the pair's approach.

Myotismon detested the thought of a romantic dinner date, _alone_ with Piedmon, but refrained from protesting. The Mega seemed to enjoy any struggle he put up, so he kept quiet, secretly wishing for the night to go quickly.

Piedmon unlinked arms, much to his guest's short-lived relief, before moving behind him and unclipping his cloak from around his shoulders. In extending his arm, the lace at the end of Piedmon's sleeve crept back, exposing a bandage wrapped around his wrist. The wound underneath had bled onto the edge of his glove, and was working its way to the surface of the gauze as well.

"You're hurt?" The vampire's eyes were instantly drawn to the injury.  
"It's nothing." Piedmon assured him, caressing Myotismon's shoulders before finally removing the cloak.

All the while, Myotismon feared the harlequin testing his limits... trying to get him to _tell him to stop_.

He tossed the cloak at the closest Rookie attendant, saying "See to it that my guest's clothes are well taken care of."  
The sentence unnerved the Ultimate more than the act of removing one layer of his suddenly very inadequate attire.

"I took the liberty of having a drink prepared for you, _Myotismon_." Ever the gentlemon, the Dark Master pulled out Myotismon's chair for him, running a light hand down his arm as he sat.  
The vampire gave him a curious look - a touch of amusement, coupled with annoyance. "You _know_ that I cannot-"  
"-Drink wine? Yes, how could I possibly forget?" Piedmon could not help but recall the fantasy of being the deadly Ultimate's victim as he took his place directly to Myotismon's right, at the head of the table. "I would not be that cruel to you."

An army of RedVegiemon brought forth silver platters containing exotic fruits smothered in fluffy vanilla cream; roast creatures from land, sea and air; steaming soups; and thick-crusted pies with countless savoury and sweet fillings that the vampire would never know the taste of, and that Piedmon could not possibly eat all by himself.

When the room had been cleared of all but the pair seated at the table, a single waiter carried in a small tray, upon which balanced two glass goblets, both filled with crimson liquid. He presented them to Piedmon with a bow and waited for the Mega to take them up, before scuttling back to the kitchen with the tray under his arm.

"For you, my love." Piedmon held one of the goblets out to his guest, bracing his wounded wrist with his other hand, as if it did not have enough strength do perform the task by itself.

"Is something the matter?" Piedmon asked, his head tilted to the side, in that innocent manner Myotismon found entrancing. Although he now wore his mask, and his hair up, he was still undeniably attractive.  
"No, nothing at all." The vampire answered, quickly moving his attention from Piedmon's injury to the goblet his fingers were curled around. He smiled as he looked at its contents. "Thank you."

Piedmon raised his glass, proposing a toast to the happiness they would both share during the remaining days of his week with his guest. Blood and wine clinked together, and the pair drank.

The rich, salty blood in Myotismon's goblet was magnificent to taste. He had taken but one sip, and already he stopped to savour it, laying back in his chair and licking his lips.

"To your liking, my dear?"  
"I've never tasted anything like it." The Ultimate replied, moving the goblet to his lips and closing his eyes to drink his next mouthful.  
"Well, you deserve only the best."

He may have told the mon that he grew tired of watching him, but Piedmon could do nothing but simply stare at Myotismon as he drank every drop of that which he had bled from his wrist several hours ago.

It had hurt - a lot; taking his sword (the one with a heart as its pommel seemed most fitting) and cutting across his veins, bleeding them into the glass before summoning a few of his followers to bandage him. Watching how the result was appreciated was well worth every bit of pain he had suffered for it.

Myotismon sighed in satisfaction. "Wherever did you find a creature with such blood?"  
The noblemon chose to drink wine with his mouth, rather than use it to speak.

Upon realising he was not going to receive an answer, the vampire reached for his stained handkerchief and dabbed the corners of his lips, then rose from his place.  
"Thank you for a lovely meal, now if you will excuse me-"  
"Oh, but I _haven't_ excused you." With lightning quick reflexes, Piedmon caught Myotismon's arm as he tried to pass. "It would please me if we were to leave together."

The younger of the two shook his arm free. He may have agreed to being touched, but that certainly did not mean he enjoyed it.

"You may wait on the balcony." Piedmon suggested, almost like an order.  
Myotismon nodded in compliance. The night air would no doubt soothe him before he had to return to his overbearing host for more psychological punishment.

He rested his chin in his palm as he leant against the balustrade, staring longingly at the starry sky.  
_It's only a few more days..._ He thought hopefully to himself. _And then I will be free._  
He licked his lips, the taste of that sublime blood made him smile.

"Myotismon?"  
The vampire jumped, looking around at his name being asked in a high-pitched drawl. "Yes?" He replied carefully, studying the small marionette Digimon several metres away from him.

"So, you're the infamous Myotismon?" Puppetmon strutted closer, his beady eyes roaming up and down his master's lanky catch, evaluating him. "I thought you'd be shorter... Piedmon doesn't usually like them taller than himself."  
"Them?"  
"His lovers, silly."  
"I don't know what he's been telling you..." Myotismon snarled, "But I am _not_ his lover!"  
Puppetmon's wooden shoulders gave an awkward shrug, "Whatever you say."  
"You don't believe me?"  
"I never said that."

The vampire huffed in frustration, crossing his arms and turning his back to the tiny Mega. He may as well have been talking to Piedmon for all the sense he was getting out of the conversation. There was, it seemed, no escape from the madness while he was in the palace.

"You're prettier than his last." Puppetmon offered, almost desperately, to keep the Ultimate's attention.  
"I don't care." Myotismon bit his lip to stop himself from smiling at the compliment. "I'm _not_ his current, or his next, or anything of his!"

"Do you want to come over to my house and play 'War' sometime?"  
It was a sudden, very weird question... reeking of childish innocence, but Myotismon was suspicious. "I won't be here for long."  
Puppetmon made no attempt to hide his cynical laughter. "Piedmon won't let a gem like _you_ go."  
"He can't force me to stay."  
"Sure he can. You're already warming to him... you'll be begging him to let you stay in no time."  
Myotismon snorted at the sheer absurdity of Puppetmon's idiot observation. "Aren't Punch and Judy missing you by now?"

The puppet gave a loud sarcastic laugh. If he was given a Digi-dollar for every insult he'd suffered from Ultimate upstarts unaware of his strength, he would be as wealthy as Piedmon! And Myotismon's severed head would look so nice mounted above his mansion's fireplace...

"_Myotismon_?"  
The vampire never imagined he could feel so relieved to hear Piedmon's voice.  
"Excuse me." He snarled at Puppetmon, turning and heading back into the palace.  
The tiny Mega laughed. "Have fun!"

Having once been eager to re-join his host, Myotismon quickly resumed his unwilling captive persona - Puppetmon's words reinforcing the obvious look of lust Piedmon had in his eyes.

_I won't let that little creep get to me!_

"Have you any plans for this evening?" The harlequin asked, as the beautiful pair walked side by side toward Piedmon's parlour.  
Myotismon snorted at the ridiculous question. "What could I possibly plan while I'm your prisoner?"  
"_Guest_, my dear... you should learn to use less powerful metaphors, no one likes an over-exaggerator."

The vampire was lead into the familiar room; with its matching pair of love seats facing each other, and an elaborate wine cabinet in the far corner. This had been where the nightmare had begun... if he had just stayed in the yard with LadyDevimon... if he had never allowed himself to be lured inside - to this very room...

Piedmon's arm was around his waist, the mon's hand moulded to the slight curve of his hip, guiding him toward the closest chair. Once seated, Myotismon fully expected Piedmon to inch his way closer and closer, until the minute space between them became unbearable... but again, the noblemon surprised him, taking his place at the opposite end of the chair. He seemed quite content with the arrangement, crossing his legs and leaning his side casually into the armrest.

"Thank you." He said suddenly, staring at Myotismon with his intense gold and vermilion eyes.  
"For what?" Confused cobalt eyes stared back. He could not think of anything he had done to make his captor grateful. If anything, he had gone out of his way to be as unfriendly as possible.  
"For dining with me. You look so beautiful when you are... _satisfied_."  
"What are you suggesting?" Myotismon's guard went up instantly; straightening his back, whilst his claws balled into the unfortunate velvet beside him.

And just as Myotismon had dreaded, the Mega was at once by his side, reaching up to stroke his face with the back of his gloved hand.  
"Piedmon-"  
"I won't hurt you..." He soothed, "I just want to know what you feel like... Indulge me for a moment, won't you?"

The vampire closed his eyes, frowning at his own weakness in submitting to the dark Digimon's wish. His hands were gentle, but strange against Myotismon's virgin skin. Piedmon felt his face as though he were blind, taking in every curve and lump... his soft fingers running over his jawline, down the side of his nose, across his trembling lips...

"Perfect..." He murmured, moving his hands across his guest's shoulders and down his arms. "You're so very perfect."  
Myotismon smiled feebly.

His hand moved up the outside of Myotismon's thigh, taking a sudden turn at his groin. Myotismon moaned. Piedmon's breath was hot against his face, and the harlequin shifted to get even closer to him.  
"Let me touch you _there_." He whispered, not as a request, but rather, an announcement for his next move.

The vampire nodded shakily, tears already welling in his eyes. The Mega's hand slipped between his legs, his fingers cupping the impressive bulge, whilst his thumb massaged it in slow circles.

Myotismon never thought a single touch could draw so much pleasure from his body. It scared and delighted him, and tears were the only way his body could express both at once. He threw his arms around his captor's shoulders, burrowing his face into the crook of his neck and silently sobbing away his conflicting emotions.

"Don't you like it?" Piedmon sang, using his other hand to stroke Myotismon's hair. "You have but to tell me to stop, and I will."  
"...Don't stop."

He'd planned to take this step slowly, wanting to make sure Myotismon was completely comfortable with being touched in such an erotic manner. But the vampire's hardening arousal; his laboured breaths; his tiny whimpers; his tightening grip on Piedmon's shoulders... all persuaded the Mega to hasten his pace and take his touching much further.  
It was a painful moment for both of them as he abandoned his sublime caressing and reached to unfasten his subordinate's belt buckles.

"What are you doing?" Myotismon asked in a small voice, scared that the powerful noblemon might well take advantage of him whilst he felt so very faint from his new experience.  
"Do you wish for me to stop?"  
"No..." The vampire warily answered, his curiosity outweighing his fears. But he quickly added, "Not yet."

_Yet?_ Piedmon understood. Pleasure him soon, or have him dread the wait.

The pair of belts slipped from Myotismon's waist, lodging themselves between his hips and the chair. The Mega's hand crept beneath the hem of Myotismon's tunic to continue from where he had been otherwise interrupted, undoing the vampire's pants in the guise of a long stroke.

Myotismon cried out in shock as Piedmon's cold hand reached inside and touched his most sensitive flesh. Long fingers curled around his length, running back and forth ever so slowly; his forefinger circling the tip each time his hand reached that extreme, and his palm kneading the vampire's tender balls when his hand fell to the opposite extreme.

His left hand wormed its way between Myotismon's spine and the chair, splaying across the small of his back, as the Dark Master got even closer to him - rising to his knees to awkwardly straddle his prey's lap.

"Just say the word..." He whispered, half tempted to plant a desperate kiss on Myotismon's gaping mouth - but he restrained himself; presently, he had not been given permission for such an act.

"By MagnaAngemon's purity, don't..." His victim managed to gasp, throwing his head back as his hips began to buck against Piedmon's touch.  
"Methinks you are enjoying this far too much for the prisoner you claim yourself to be."

And the moment was over. Piedmon moved so quickly, Myotismon didn't even notice the touching had stopped until the noblemon closed the door behind him on the way out of the room.

He sat, completely bewildered by the events of the evening, staring into space for several minutes. It had felt so good - nay, it had felt better than good, and he longed to feel it again.

"Damn him!" He muttered, breaking his stare with nothing and looking down. He'd never been sexually aroused before... well, perhaps once or twice with a particularly exciting kill, but that was different... _this_ had been someone else's doing. Someone else's _hand_ had brought him to this point!  
"Down!" He growled at his erection. How could he have let Piedmon do that to him? He felt so dirty... but he wanted more. The Dark Master's game had gone far enough.

Warily, he began to do his pants up. It hurt to touch himself; everyday motions now serving as reminders of the caresses Piedmon had lavished upon him. His hand lingered on his waistband - could his own hand stir the same emotions?

No! How could he even think that?! He tore his hand away, staring at it with a ferocious frown.   
"Bastard!" He hissed between clenched teeth. "What am I supposed to do with _this_ now?!"

He stood up as quickly and as gracefully as his unfulfilled need would allow him to, and hobbled toward the door. Casting a hopeful look down at his aching groin, he was not pleased to see that Piedmon's flesh sculpture was no less aroused than it had been whilst he was on the chair.

Perhaps a Vilemon's blood would be able to replace the feverish sensation still coursing through his veins? Myotismon headed out into the corridor, following the rough map in his memory toward the palace gardens.

* * * * *

Vilemon blood had never been anything Myotismon would have classed as a culinary delight, but it served its purpose - calming the vampire from his previous experience with Piedmon. Their blood had been so bland, and now, as he sat upon the single chair in the garden, staring out across the yard, reminiscent of the master of the palace; he chewed unhappily at the bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

Piedmon had said that goblet of blood at dinner was the finest, and Myotismon was inclined to agree with him. He'd liked the taste of Vilemon before tonight, now in comparison, it was deplorable. One tiny glass, and the Ultimate already found himself addicted?!

_Drugged, perhaps?_ He brooded. _I will not be held ransom to a taste!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that, I'm afraid, is where it ends. I have a tiny bit of the next chapter written, but it's not worth uploading. Maybe this fic will be completed one day? Not today, though. Thanks so much for reading it!


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